Can't Stay Away
by w8ing4huddy
Summary: This story begins while House is in Mayfield but continues on into House's return to PPTH.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession. (But frankly, something must be done about that kiss between House and that woman in the promo! If I see it one more time…And for that matter, I've seen eleven or so different variations of promos for House, M.D.'s opener to season 6 – I've seen Taub threatening to quit, Wilson on the phone, Foreman and Thirteen together, random patients in both hospitals, and House, of course. But not a single one of them showed Cuddy and what she's been up to in House's absence. I think it's intentional. And it's making me grumpy.)

The guy in the room next to his was banging something heavy against the wall again, screaming gibberish. House glanced at the clock. 5 a.m. He returned his gaze to the ceiling. He lay on his back, spread out on his thin cot with his arms crossed on top of his equally thin pillow to support his aching head. The racket coming from next door was giving him a raging headache. He recalculated rapidly. Yes, he had been in this nuthouse for 6 weeks, 1 day, 10 hours, and 37 minutes now. He had been allowed visitors for 2 weeks, 1 day, 10 hours, and 37…no, make that 38 minutes, of said time. Technically he would have been able to have visitors after three weeks here, but he was added another week without visitors for bad behavior. Really, what did they expect of him? He had time to kill and nothing to entertain himself with. He had always been great at finding ways to annoy and terrorize others. In fact, he excelled at it. It came as naturally as breathing to him. Given the circumstances, of course he was going to make a nuisance of himself here.

In the end it didn't matter, simply because not a single visitor had shown up at any point between his entry into this hellhole and now. When he finally could have visitors and no one came, he quickly gave up on trying to "contain himself" in order to meet Mayfield expectations. In all honesty he figured, why bother? Obviously no one cared to see him anyway. Apparently the staff ended up agreeing, seeing no point in forbidding visitors when no one seemed interested enough to come. Instead they punished him in other ways. He had to admit, giving him this guy for a neighbor was starting to make him weigh the cost of his actions a little more. He might actually try to do better, just to save himself from this living nightmare. As if his insomnia wasn't bad enough!

Cuddy tossed and turned in her bed. It was five o'clock in the morning and she hadn't seen her star diagnostician in 6 weeks, 1 day, 14 hours, 49 minutes, and 53 seconds, give or take a couple. She knew this because she had made the fatal error of glancing at her watch when House and Wilson had left Princeton Plainsboro that fatal afternoon. It had engrained itself into her brain due to the severity of the situation. Now she couldn't escape the trap of constantly recalculating how long it had been since she'd last laid eyes on the infuriating, and yet oh so intoxicating, Dr. Gregory House. She turned over again and then hit her pillow in frustration. Cuddy swore she was about to go crazy.

She knew standard procedure stated that Mayfield patients who had to go through detoxification were not allowed visitors during the first three weeks. When Cuddy heard where he was, she had immediately scoured their web-site for any information she could get and then placed a call or two for more. She also knew House being House had got himself another week thrown in for screwing up somehow. The director of the facility had faxed over a paper saying so, thinking he would save them from making the trip just to turn around and have to go back without seeing House. Frankly, she thought that punishment was ridiculous and cruel. What did this facility of Wilson's choosing expect of House, anyway? To enjoy his time there and spend it painting pretty pictures or playing go fish with other patients? Of course he was acting up! He was probably bored out of his mind without a puzzle to solve and his piano to play! You could only pass so much time napping.

Wilson had told her that House wouldn't want them to come anyway. He had told her that House would hate for them to see him like this, locked up in a crazy house. He explicitly told her how unwise it would be for her to go. But even the director had expected they'd come as soon as they were allowed to and while she'd argued this point with Wilson several times, he kept telling her that unless House specifically asked for one of them, neither should go. Then she had asked why the two of them would be listed on House's acceptable visitors list if he didn't want them. Wilson told her the form was probably not something House had any knowledge of, or that if he did, it was more a pass for them to get information about his condition from staff than an actual invitation to come calling. But certainly they had separate information release forms, wouldn't they? What hospital could combine information release with acceptable visitor sign-offs? Unless Wilson had really chosen to place House in a substandard facility, Cuddy just didn't think he knew what he was talking about.

She glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed. 5:32 a.m. That was thirty-two more minutes making… "Aaaaaaah," she buried her head and screamed into her pillow, locking her mouth shut first to avoid making too much noise and waking Rachel in the process. You know what? Screw Wilson, she thought. Screw what House wants. House and Wilson had not been so kind as to inform her of what they were doing. House had asked her to bring him to Wilson and once there, they had practically sent her packing. Cuddy had only discovered just what Wilson and House had left to do when she called Wilson after the wedding. That whole time, she had sat there, worried about House and how he was and what they'd do to figure out whatever it was that was going on. They. Not he and Wilson. She had expected to be a part of it. Part of the decision or at the very least, offered the opportunity to express her opinion. But no, that was not how this had gone down. And even now, Wilson would not share any details of why House was in Mayfield, except to say that he had been hallucinating due to the Vicodin and then had a delusion of some sort; a delusion she was positive had involved her, for she clearly remembered House's expression in her office when he realized that whatever he had thought had taken place between them that night, the one in which House had insulted Cuddy, had not. What exactly had he imagined? Obviously, he had thought she'd helped him with something. If she knew the details of his delusion, would it somehow help her puzzle together the pieces of what had taken place between them in the days following? Oh, how she had regretted the days following!

That night, when House entered her office, she had been at the end of her rope. Everything that could go wrong had and she had spent the entire day running herself ragged. First they had an idiot patient who snuck outside for a smoke with his oxygen tank, the nurses only realizing he was missing when said oxygen tank exploded, causing damage to hospital property and almost killing the man, who was even now in a coma with extensive burns. Then she found out she was expected at a meeting with the board which had already started forty minutes before. Somehow the memo had never made it to her desk. After that, she had items the board had expected her to have ready for them at the meeting, which they then requested for her to have ready by the next morning. Not an hour passed when she found out a pipe in the clinic had burst and there was water everywhere. That had to be dealt with immediately. Finally, her sitter came down with something and called at three to say she needed to go home and her replacement could not possibly stay any later than seven. She had just returned to her office that evening with the intention of taking a mammoth pile of work home with her, after checking on the oxygen guy, when House came in. From the moment he opened his mouth and announced he was quitting, she knew there was no possibility of her night improving. She sarcastically listed off the roster of demands she was sure he was about to make in order to not quit, then asked if it couldn't just wait until the next morning as she had to get home to Rachel, and what did he do? He said something so cruel that in that moment, she really did hope he was seriously quitting and she'd never have to see him again. She went home, spent some time with Rachel, got her to sleep, and then left the nursery only to close the door and find herself sobbing in earnest over his mean-spiritedness when all this time, she had believed he was a friend. But obviously, she had just been deluding herself. Cuddy had pulled herself together long enough to finish off what she needed for the board, but the rest of her workload was pushed off for another day. She was just too exhausted, too stressed, and too emotionally high-strung to not crawl into her bed and escape what together made up for a terribly bad day.

The next morning she had woken up early and as she lay there, vowed that she would not allow House to hurt her anymore. She had feelings for him. She had for a long time. But it was ridiculous to expect the day might come when he'd wake up and realize what stood before him, offering him a chance at happiness – happiness with her. No, from now on they would be professional with one another or he could quit and find himself another administrator to terrorize in another hospital far, far from her. That thought only sent a small pang through her and she determined that even that, having him leave, would be better than continuing like this. As she went about her day she steeled herself for letting him know just how it would be between them from now on and when she saw him heading for the elevator, she finished what she was doing and then sought him out in his office. He made his customary sexual innuendo, this time one that did not make any sense at all if she really thought about it, but it was enough to give her the backbone to draw herself up and basically tell him, "This is it. I'm your boss and you will respect me. Take it or leave." Then she left, thinking she should feel happy to have just gotten it over with. Yet something nagged at her and she knew what it was. She didn't really want their relationship to change. She just didn't want him to hurt her anymore. And that required him not having the power to hurt her anymore, which she had to admit, she gave him just by caring so much.

She had almost been relieved when he came up with some plan to make her mad. At least it guaranteed that House would be House. It was certainly far better than having him turn sullen, or worse. She knew how to play with him like that. But then he had done it. He had gone TOO far! When she had first exited the clinic and approached the nurse's station amidst an eerie hush and heard House's announcement secondhand from one of the nurses, she had looked up at where he stood at the balcony with just a vague sense of irritation. She wasn't really angry yet. She knew he was trying to provoke her. She didn't want to give in. But then, seeing all the looks of suspicion and skepticism on the faces of those who had heard him, she realized just what kind of consequences she was facing. She thought back to the inspector's visit from the year before and the soap star House had for a patient that day; how she had allowed House his own way, knowing she was risking her job if he turned out to be wrong, House knowing it too. At the end of the day, when he had been wrong and albeit, still succeeded in saving the patient's life, he had gruffly told her that she should have stopped him, placing the blame back on her for her inability to not give in to him, instead of taking any responsibility himself. The hospital ended up being fined $200,000, not all because of House, but certainly he hadn't helped the situation, or her stress level, and yet he had never verbally apologized to her for anything. This time, his actions had the potential to cost her so much more than money. He was costing her people's respect, potentially her job, and if she lost that, probably any hopes of finding another one, at least one quite as good as the one she had and loved, for she couldn't imagine getting a good recommendation from the board if they truly believed she was sleeping with an employee, especially this employee, and was allowing him to broadcast it to everyone.

Then she was angry. No, beyond angry. She was incensed, furious, irate, outraged, all of the above. Every second that passed wound her tighter than a child's spinning top. Angry tears coursed down her cheeks as she hunted him down, unable to stop herself from yelling at him where anyone could hear her. How dare he spout suggestive lies about her private life! How dare he give anyone further ammunition when they already suspected she was too lenient with him! And what did he do then? He glibly suggested they move in together. That was the breaking point. She fired him right there on the spot, storming off to figure out how to pick up the pieces from this latest and greatest of Housian disasters he'd made.

Ten minutes later he was in her office. Cuddy told him to say what he had to and leave. She had already calmed down, moving into a kind of acceptance so that she could brainstorm damage control. And then he wanted to talk about her lipstick, followed up with questioning if she wasn't just overreacting to the other night. Fine. She agreed that perhaps she'd overreacted about what he'd said, not because anyone wouldn't have reacted terribly to his words but yes, knowing House as she did, perhaps she did. And then she went completely in the other direction, launching into how that was a good thing, rather than a bad one, because they'd reached the final straw and now she knew they could never mean anything to one another, only to look back at him and find him suddenly clueless and utterly lost. In the five minutes that followed, she made an unsettling discovery. Something, beyond the obvious, was definitely wrong. Something was going on with House. And in that realization, she cast off everything that had happened between them over the course of the past few days and she was right back with him, caring ever so deeply about what the problem was and how she could help fix it for him.

If she had known when she had brought House to Wilson that they were going to lock House away like this, she would never have left. There were so many regrets. So many things she wished she could have told him. So much that she now felt she MUST have misread and misunderstood. She thought back to how he came to her office that one night, asking for sleeping pills and admitting he hadn't slept since Kutner killed himself. She had known instinctively there was more to the situation than that. But she hadn't been willing to press him when he'd already confessed that much. She had failed him that night. She felt like she'd been failing him ever since. No, she needed to see him. She was desperate to see him. She had to know for herself how he was. She couldn't be expected to go on like this. It wasn't a realistic expectation. Screw Wilson, she thought again, throwing the blankets off and hurrying to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. Cuddy would call the nanny, tell her it was an emergency, and then make the drive to Mayfield so that she could be there for him if he needed her now. How many opportunities had already passed her by as she waited, believing that just maybe it was true that House wouldn't want her there. But seeing him was just too important to waste another day fighting her instincts to go to him in order to obey Wilson's unfounded conclusions about what House did or did not want right now. She was going. That was all there was to it.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

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For all rights and purposes, my psych ward characters will not be like the ones in the show, though I am using the name Dr. Nolan.

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Cuddy drove, her mind turning to her final moments in her office before she had left to go get ready for Cameron and Chase's wedding. She had been packing up her briefcase to take home with her, her thoughts still centered on House, when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," she called out, not turning to see who it was. The door opened and in stepped the man from the clinic she and House had both used to wage war on one another. "May I help you?" she inquired, once she'd glanced up and recognized him. "Eugene Schwartz," he'd reintroduced himself. "The man who squawks?" She nodded almost imperceptibly, encouraging him to continue. "I just wanted to talk to you for a moment about Dr. House," he went on. Cuddy sighed but grabbed a form she kept on hand just for these moments. She held it out to him and said, "Here. You can make your complaint with this form." But Mr. Schwartz remained silent, not reaching for it. She searched his expression in her confusion but he spoke before she could ask why he was there then. "I overheard you fire him. You're making a big mistake," he calmly informed her. And that was when she recognized the emotion revealed in his eyes. She had been right in that he was clearly offended. But he was not offended by something House had said or done. He was offended by her. On House's behalf. It was such a bewildering turn of events that she sank into her chair. A clinic patient who defended House? Mr. Schwartz spoke again, "You fired him and he could have easily walked away and not helped me. He was rattled enough. But instead of leaving, he figured out what was wrong with me. Pancreatic Cancer," he stated, in a hushed tone that told her he was still very shook up by it, even if he was putting the knowledge aside to come to House's aid. "He instructed Dr. Taub to accompany me and even stay with me during the procedure to verify. He's a great doctor. And when he could have focused entirely on his own situation, he instead took the time to care about me. That makes him a good man." Cuddy thought she could probably count on one hand the number of people who would call House a "good man," but she dismissed that thought immediately, simply because she already regretted saying those words to House earlier. "You have nothing to worry about," she reassured him then. "I won't be firing Dr. House." He seemed to accept that and then turned to go, but paused before he passed through the door. "I don't know what he did that upset you. But perhaps you should consider giving him a second shot. Love's rarely uncomplicated." And with those words he turned and made his way out of her office, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. She had sat there longer than she meant to, his final words circling in her head.

Cuddy pulled off at the exit, realizing how close she was to seeing him. She pulled herself from her thoughts, turning into the parking lot. She had stopped briefly by work first to pick up some forms she would need the facility to fill out in order for her to begin the process of reinstating House's license to practice medicine, more to arm herself with an excuse in the event that he really didn't want her there. She knew from the way people were looking at her that she was doing a poor job of masking just how happy she was to be where she was in that moment, which was probably an odd thing in itself, as how many people really enter a psych hospital, thrilled to be there? But she reminded herself that she couldn't care less what people thought. Moments from seeing House again her heart was beating double time, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

"I'm here to see Dr. Gregory House," she explained once she reached the front desk. "Could you tell me if he's available and where I might find him?"

"Let me get Dr. Nolan for you. He's usually not in today but it just so happens that he had to swing by for something and as you are the first guest that has come to see Dr. House he'd probably appreciate the opportunity to introduce himself. Can you sign here in the guest log?" The woman passed her a pen and held the registry out for her.

"I'm right here, Anna," an older gentleman said from a short distance away, speaking to the nurse before he turned his attention to Cuddy.

"Dr. Nolan, I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you in person yet but we've spoken once or twice on the phone," she told him, holding out her hand.

"Ah, Dr. Cuddy," he replied before she could introduce herself, taking her hand in his and giving it a firm shake. "The pleasure is all mine."

"I was hoping I might be able to see House. I don't know if I am supposed to call first or not but I thought I'd risk it in hopes that I'd be able to spend some time with him today," Cuddy explained, trying her best to control her expression and not come across too desperate to see him.

"You are welcome any time you would like to stop by," he reassured her. "I am sure Dr. House will be happy for the company."

She flashed him a wide smile which only wavered with uncertainty for a millisecond or two. "I certainly hope he will but I guess that remains to be seen."

"Would you like me to take you to him?" he offered graciously.

"Actually, I was hoping I could give you a list of some information I need regarding Dr. House's treatment before I can jumpstart the process of getting his medical license reinstated. As soon as you give me the all-clear, that is. I also have some paperwork that will eventually need filling out, though there's no rush on returning that to me just yet. You can fax it back when it's convenient." Cuddy handed him several forms and then added, "Oh, and if it would be possible, I would really like any information you can share with me at all about how detox went and the medication House is now on."

"I'll tell you what…since House has already signed a waiver permitting either you or Dr. Wilson such information I will take this with me to my office. It's the office right down at the end of the hall and to the right. My name is on the door. Meanwhile I will send you with an aide down to Dr. House's room. Once you are done visiting you can swing by. With any luck I should have some information to give you on his treatment and his medications by then. Sound good?" he asked, smiling warmly.

"That would be wonderful," she agreed.

"Angela," Dr. Nolan called out, flagging down a young woman in pale yellow scrubs, "Could you please escort Dr. Cuddy to Dr. House's room? I assume you know where it is?"

"Certainly, sir," the aide affirmed, smiling in Cuddy's direction.

When Dr. Nolan turned to head back into his office, the aide nodded to her and said, "You can follow me, ma'am."

Cuddy trailed after her, curiously looking around her, taking in the bland atmosphere and subdued lighting. Being an administrator herself, she contemplated about what kind of budget the facility might have. Being a woman, she began a list in her head of how she'd brighten this place up, if it were up to her to do so. She pondered just what kind of issues the other patients suffered from and what the average length of stay was. She wondered if there was something going on right now, as there was no one in sight and all was quiet. Maybe there was some sort of central location for visitors and their guests, though honestly, she just wanted to spend some time alone with House. Still, it would be nice to know for future reference, in case he agreed to her coming again.

Angela turned right off the main hallway with Cuddy several paces behind her. Just then a man came out of a room to her left and crossed the space between the aide and Cuddy, entering another patient room without a stitch of clothing on. "Oh," Cuddy exclaimed in mortification, stopping dead in her tracks. She had NOT been expecting THAT to happen! She felt her cheeks flood with color and closed her eyes briefly. You're a doctor, she told herself. It's nothing you haven't seen before.

When she opened her eyes, Angela was beside her, looking slightly embarrassed herself. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, uh…no problem," Cuddy mumbled, glancing away from the room the patient had walked into.

Her eyes quickly returned to the room, however, as it would seem the room the naked man walked into was not his own. A distinctly feminine scream of outrage rent the air. "How far are we from House's room?" Cuddy asked nervously, incredibly uncomfortable now.

"Turn left at the corner and he is in the third door on the right," Angela instructed, pointing her onward. "I should probably see to this."

Eyes wide, Cuddy nodded in agreement. "Yes, that might be wise. Thank you for your help." Then she quickly moved on, turning the corner only to come to a standstill at the sight that met her eyes. There was her House, the man she had been so eager to see that she couldn't imagine allowing another day pass her by without coming here to be with him, wrapped around some nurse, kissing her like there was no tomorrow.

Cuddy staggered back, bumping into the wall, unable to take her eyes off the scene before her, the two people oblivious to her presence as they continued to make out. She felt like someone had stabbed her, like even now life was ebbing out from her veins. No, like her heart had been ripped from her chest, leaving a gaping wound behind. And now she was having difficulty breathing. She felt faint, but also like she was going to vomit any second. She hurriedly tried to backtrack and get away so that she could suffer this latest tragedy in private but dropped her purse then, spilling the contents all over the floor. Absolutely horrified, she dropped to her knees and tried to cram everything back inside, dismally hoping that they wouldn't notice her.

"Cuddy?" she heard House ask softly, sounding incredibly surprised to find her there. She groaned and glanced up briefly, meeting his startled blue eyes. He took a step away from the nurse then who turned to look at her in confusion. Cuddy turned scarlet, returning her gaze to the floor to make sure she had everything. Then she pushed herself to her feet and walked as fast as her heels would carry her, back in the direction from which she'd come, her lips tightly pressed together. She couldn't believe this had happened. She couldn't believe House would do this. She thought…well, apparently it didn't matter what she thought. And then she realized something and that realization brought her up short. It wasn't just that she cared for him, or even that she had complicated feelings regarding him. She loved him. She was in love with House. And here he was kissing some other woman, while she'd been thinking about him non-stop for the last 6 weeks, missing him terribly and feeling like a part of her had gone missing along with him. She heard the sound of House's cane on the floor behind her and sprang back into motion. She just couldn't deal with him now. How could he?! And how could she have been so stupid?! Tears were flooding her eyes and she tried to blink them away as she pressed on, heading for Dr. Nolan's office as quick as her feet could carry her.

"Cuddy! Wait!" House called anxiously from around the corner, but she would not wait. Not this time. He'd ruined everything! He'd broken something inside her once again! There was no rewind button to press and change history. She hurriedly wiped at her eyes and then strode into Dr. Nolan's office, firmly shutting the door behind her and clicking it locked, hoping House had not turned that last corner in time to see her enter. She stood facing the shut door, taking in gasping breaths.

"Dr. Cuddy? Are you alright?" Dr. Nolan asked from behind her, clearly concerned.

"Oh! Yes, I'm fine." Cuddy straightened her shoulders and took in a deep breath of air before turning to the man, plastering one of her fake donor smiles onto her lips.

He looked at her closely, as if he was inspecting her to see if maybe she too belonged in Mayfield. "Are you sure?" he asked finally, his manner a bit reticent.

"Sorry, I just didn't feel so well for a moment there. Do you have those papers for me?" she asked then, suddenly professional.

He hesitated, watching her another moment before answering, "I thought it might be simpler to just print up a portion of his records. I'll have them for you in a moment. I'm just waiting for the printer to kick it into gear. Will it help if I put them in a file for you?"

"That would be wonderful," she briskly replied, waiting as the printer started to make noise. Once pages had stopped spitting out of the machine, he grabbed them, clipped them together, tucked them in a file folder and held them out to her.

"Thank you, Dr. Nolan. I appreciate it," she told him, her voice as calm as she could make it.

She turned to the door to leave but before she could unlock it Dr. Nolan spoke up, his voice carrying an analytical edge. "How is Dr. House?"

She glanced back at him, unable to mask her pained expression for a moment. "He looks like he's doing just fine." Could she help it if her tone was clipped and her fuse a bit short?

Dr. Nolan sighed deeply, his expression suddenly sympathetic. "Was there someone with him when you got there?"

Cuddy did not meet his eyes. "A nurse," she stated without emotion, hoping she sounded as disinterested as one could possibly be.

"Dr. Cuddy, if I may say so…" he began, his voice gentle and soothing.

"I'm sorry Dr. Nolan, but I really must be going. I have a lot to do today," she interrupted, her hand grasping the doorknob. She cursed herself for ever coming in the first place. She should have just listened to Wilson. Why did she always listen to him in the moments when she shouldn't and then ignore him when she should listen to him most?

Dr. Nolan was silent for a moment but then said evenly, "Yes, I understand. I do hope you'll come back to see us though."

She glanced back at him before stating, "I really don't think that will be necessary. I've got what I need for now. The rest I'll just have you fax over when the time comes. Thank you for your time."

He nodded, his eyes still focused on her in scrutiny. "Certainly. You are most welcome."

Cuddy turned the doorknob, her mind repeating a chorus of, "Please don't be waiting for me. Please don't be waiting for me. Please don't be waiting for me," as she pulled it open and stepped out into the hallway. It was not to be.

House stood a few paces from the door, obviously waiting for her. "Cuddy, if you'll just let me…" he began, gesturing in agitation.

"No," she hissed, unable to pretend that there was nothing wrong between them. "I'm leaving. Now," she emphasized, striding past him in the direction of the front door. The hallway had suddenly filled with people. Maybe she had been right. Maybe they had been busy with some activity and it had just got done. Regardless, she realized, all she wanted was to get out of here.

"Cuddy, come on! Just wait!" House exclaimed, reaching for her arm.

"NO!" she yelled before she could stop herself, glaring at him as she pulled away. "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!"

And then House was yelling right back at her. "TOUGH! BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO!" The tone of his voice actually did succeed in stopping her, though she refused to turn around and face him as the tears even now were coursing down her cheeks.

House didn't notice this, as all he could see of her was her back. He was yelling once again. "I AM STUCK IN THIS HELLHOLE, MORE MISERABLE THAN I HAVE EVER BEEN IN MY LIFE! I HAVE NO ONE HERE! I HAVE WAITED, DAY AFTER DAY, FOR SOMEONE TO COME VISIT ME! ANYONE! I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO SEE SOMEONE I KNOW SO BADLY IN ALL MY LIFE! NEVER FELT SO PATHETIC! I MADE THE MISTAKE OF ASSUMING YOU AND WILSON WOULD BE HERE THE MINUTE I WAS CLEARED FOR VISITORS! THOSE FIRST FEW DAYS I WAITED FOR YOU, WATCHING THE FRONT DOOR, FULLY EXPECTING YOU GUYS TO COME IN AT ANY MOMENT. BUT NEITHER YOU, NOR WILSON, BOTHERED TO SHOW UP UNTIL TODAY! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I'VE GONE THROUGH THESE LAST TWO WEEKS, WAITING?! QUESTIONING WHETHER EITHER OF YOU REALLY CARED AT ALL?! WONDERING IF YOU WANTED NOTHING MORE TO DO WITH ME?! WHETHER YOU WERE ASHAMED OF ME?! ASHAMED OF MY BEING HERE?! YOU'RE MAD AT ME ABOUT THIS…THIS…BUT YOU KNOW WHAT, YOU DON'T HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE MAD AT ME! THE LAST TIME I SAW YOU, YOU MADE IT CLEAR THAT YOU WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH ME! YOU TOLD ME THAT WE DIDN'T HAVE A PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP AND NEVER WOULD! SO TELL ME JUST WHERE DO YOU GET OFF BEING MAD?! EVERYONE HERE – WELL, THEY ARE JUST LIKE YOU! ALL THEY SEE IS SOME CRIPPLED JERK WHO MAKES THEIR LIFE WORSE FOR BEING A PART OF IT! SO YES, WHEN A WOMAN FOUND ME ATTRACTIVE AND BOTHERED TO PAY ME ANY ATTENTION AT ALL, I DIDN'T WASTE THE OPPORTUNITY TO FIND AT LEAST SOMETHING TO DISTRACT MYSELF WITH AND FEEL HUMAN AGAIN!" All of a sudden the yelling stopped and then House resignedly muttered, "You know what? Just forget it, Cuddy. Forget everything. Go home. You don't belong here. You shouldn't have come anyway." Then she heard him turn on his heels and walk off down the hallway in the direction of his room, his cane tapping on the floor with every step he took until she could not hear anything anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

(Thanks for the reviews guys! I know how it is to be kept waiting and waiting for a chap so I'm giving you a break on the wait since I already have this one written.)

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Cuddy was stunned. It took her a moment to realize that the hallway had fallen silent. She looked around and noticed everyone's eyes on her. But realizing their entertainment was probably at an end as the yelling had stopped and House had walked away, they quickly began to go off in different directions until she found herself alone, save for the security guard manning the door and the lady at the front desk, both of whom were steadfastly looking away from her. Cuddy dug in her purse for a tissue and then sank onto a nearby bench, trying to regulate her breathing as she pulled herself together.

"Maybe you should go talk to him," a voice said. She glanced up and met Dr. Nolan's kind eyes. He sat down beside her. "I suppose I am about to violate patient confidentiality here but I don't see any other way around it and as Dr. House has already stated that you and Dr. Wilson were to be given any information necessary, I'm going to do something I shouldn't and decide for myself how to interpret what is necessary." Cuddy couldn't have spoken if she wanted to. She sat there, staring at him and waiting for him to continue.

Dr. Nolan sighed quietly before launching onward. "As you know, Dr. House is supposed to be seeing the psychiatrist here. It's standard procedure, but if it wasn't for the fact that attendance is mandatory, he wouldn't even go. Since he has no real choice in the matter, he does. He just doesn't really say much. I think part of his silence is just his natural resistance to the idea of expressing his thoughts and emotions. He has no problem at all expressing himself when talking about something intellectual or when he knows he's right. But the minute he has to talk about something that is subjective to his experiences or that he might not feel able to justify with reason, he shuts down.

"His psychiatrist thought maybe she'd be able to get him to open up this week by asking him to tell her about the people he worked with. He had already shown no interest in talking about his parents, his life growing up, past girlfriends, his very detailed and disconcerting medical history; he didn't want to talk about any of that. Thankfully, Dr. House was only too happy to talk about his team. He suddenly went into great detail, telling stories, criticizing, occasionally even showing grudging respect. She asked about Dr. Wilson then and he talked about their friendship a little but then clammed up. Of course Dr. Wilson has told us a bit about what happened with Amber as part of the patient history when he called to tell us Dr. House would be coming, but his psychiatrist tried to push the conversation in that direction and Dr. House just couldn't bring himself to speak of it. So she thought maybe a change in subject would loosen his tongue. She inquired about you, figuring that it's Dr. House and being that you're his boss, he'd be all too willing to talk, complaining about this, that, and the other thing, since it's clear to all of us here that Dr. House has no real love for authority. You know something? He didn't have one bad thing to say about you. In fact, what surprised her most was that he spoke of things that she would fully expect to irritate him to no end – professional conflicts and differences you've had - with a degree of not just respect, but affection in his tone. When she tried to put a finger on just how he felt about you he grew morose and said it didn't really matter because you wanted nothing more to do with him. She asked him what made him think that and he sullenly pointed out that you had not made a single attempt to see him. He also told her that you'd made it plain the day he came here that in your eyes the two of you did not share any relationship at all. Then he wouldn't say anything else. He was clearly angry with himself that he'd opened up as much as he had. That was just the other day." Cuddy's mouth dropped open but Dr. Nolan went on as if he hadn't noticed.

"The truth is Dr. Cuddy, I had every intention of calling you and Dr. Wilson both first thing Monday morning. Because even though he hasn't explicitly asked to see either of you, he has steadily worsened these last two weeks, which we attribute to the fact that neither of you have been by. His psychiatrist observed him hanging around in the hallway, waiting. She suspected he was anticipating visitors but he denied it and when she checked the log it was clear no one ever came. She approached me to discuss this very thing yesterday and we both came to the conclusion that asking for either of you was probably not something he can yet find in himself to do. She supposed that he would view making such a request as placing him under the category of needy. Seeing as he had a hard enough time allowing aides to help him with anything while going through the dregs of detox, it goes without saying that he does not appreciate vulnerability as a personal character trait. It was our opinion that at the rate he was going, he would continue to decline and then find himself too discouraged to make any real progress, lengthening his stay with us beyond what is necessary. Excuse me for eavesdropping but from what Dr. House just admitted in the hallway I think it would be safe to assume that while he wanted to see you both, and I would even go so far as to say that he longed for you to make an appearance, your absence wounded him deeply and left him very uncertain of just what he had waiting for him, if anything, when he is finally ready to leave here." Cuddy made as if to interrupt and explain their absence, but Dr. Nolan raised a hand to stop her and then pressed onward with what he had to say.

"Now, it's really not my place to decide for you what you should do with this information. You have many options open to you, one of which would be to go to Dr. House. Another would be to turn and walk out of here, pretending none of this ever happened. But if I may speak freely, and I am going to make the assumption that I may, I saw you come in and ask for Dr. House. If I read you correctly, you were very eager to see him. I suspected that you might have even missed him. And though you might not appreciate me taking the liberty of saying so, when you returned to my office after encountering Dr. House with that nurse, you appeared rather…devastated, for lack of a better word. I don't know exactly what you saw but I should tell you that I am aware of Dr. House spending time with one of our nurses, simply because it was brought to my attention earlier this week by another nurse. However, I had not seen anything unbecoming to a patient/staff-member relationship firsthand and did not yet feel like intercession was necessary. From what his psychiatrist has concluded from Dr. House's references to you, and from what I heard myself moments ago, I would personally be of the opinion that it's you who…owns his heart, so to speak. But I will now speak to the nurse involved and remind her of policy." And with that statement he rose from the bench, turned, and walked away, leaving Cuddy on the bench alone once more to determine for herself the path she would choose.

-----

Cuddy sat there for quite some time, her eyes on her hands which were folded together in her lap. She didn't really know why she continued to sit there, because she knew almost from the beginning of Dr. Nolan's speech that she would go to House. But maybe it was just that she really desired an opportunity to process. She needed to formulate just what she wanted to say to him. It wouldn't be easy, and out of habit, she wasn't used to going to House in circumstances of conflict without a battle plan. Finally she sighed and forced herself to her feet. She hoped she didn't run into that nurse he had been kissing though. If she did, she certainly didn't want to be accountable for anything she might do. Certainly, there would be hell to pay. She stood there a moment, her head bowed as she thought for just a moment more and then her shoulders went back, she drew herself up to full height, and off she went, prepared to lock horns with House if only she could share just a little of her heart with him. He had been unnaturally vulnerable before, surprisingly so. She knew it was time for her to return the favor.

-----

House sat in a chair in his room, staring at the wall, wishing he could just start this day over again. Cuddy finally shows her face and what does he do? He blows it. It was over now, he accepted. He had returned to his room and after a while of storming about, he had begun to hope she might come after him. But then she hadn't and he had to accept the fact that she wouldn't. Along with that was a realization that she might not come back. He tried to contemplate what word went beyond miserable and could potentially encompass the severity of what he felt in this moment but his brain seemed incapable of producing one; nothing came to mind.

It was lunchtime. For some reason, someone in charge had decided to appoint him a lunch buddy. Maybe it was because of the ten pounds he'd lost during detoxification or maybe it was because he just hadn't had much appetite this last week, too busy sulking in his room about his lack of visitors to go down at mealtimes. Whatever the reason, it was incredibly annoying. He figured he only had a few minutes until his appointed lunch buddy came looking for him. Well forget it. He wasn't going today. He looked back and out the window behind him, wondering where Cuddy had parked when she came here. It didn't really matter as he couldn't even see the parking lot from his window, but still, it was a nice little distraction. He tried to picture her climbing out of her car. He wondered what she had looked like, before the apocalypse. Had she been excited to see him or just resigned to it? Had she inquired at the desk with interest or was she nonplussed at being here today? What had she felt in that moment when she first laid eyes on him and he was kissing some random woman? What was it that motivated her anger? He had so many questions but few answers.

The door open and he was just about to tell his lunch buddy off when he heard a voice he was afraid he would never hear again softly say, "Excuse me but I haven't seen my favorite diagnostician in 6 weeks, 1 day, 21 hours, 57 minutes, and 23 seconds. I was told I might be able to find him here. Have you seen him by any chance?" He swiveled his head and stared at her, his mind slowly processing her words, simply because they were so unexpected. He couldn't deny to himself how his heart had begun to pound the moment she spoke, nor the way it clenched at the sight of her.

"May I come in?" she asked when he remained silent, brushing a curl away from her face.

Unable to form a coherent thought, he nodded curtly and watched her enter his room. It was almost scary really how her presence brightened the space up a hundredfold. He drank in every detail of her as one would a bottle of water during a drought, savoring every drop and yet desperate for more. Her face flushed under his scrutiny and that surprised him, for she wasn't prone to blushing when he looked at her. And he could only imagine that he'd given her looks much more heated than this. "I thought you'd be long gone by now," he finally said, his voice carefully measured to mask his feelings.

She had to clear her head before she could come up with an answer. Without realizing it she had ceased breathing when he had focused his intent gaze upon her. There was something in that look she'd never seen before and it made her feel things she'd never thought she would; made her feel wanted in a way she'd never conceived of anyone wanting her. It went beyond desired. Yes, Cuddy suddenly felt like she was his elixir and he had been dying until she came. "You think a woman who knows down to the second how long she's been away from you, wouldn't stop to think twice before walking away?" she asked then, amused that he had passed her compliment over so easily and settled on such a matter-of-fact statement instead. She sank down on the bed so that she was facing him from a mere three feet away, dropping her purse next to her.

"You called me your favorite diagnostician," he replied seriously now, lifting an eyebrow. "That's hardly a compliment. I'm your only diagnostician. My team doesn't count."

She thought about arguing, just for the sake of arguing, but decided to let it slide. He knew what she was saying, even if he was being too stubborn to admit it. "Did you miss me?" she asked then, surprising even herself with the question and the personal vulnerability it exposed.

He was silent for a moment, regarding her. "What made you come today?" he asked instead of answering.

"You drive me crazy sometimes," she huffed then, irritated that he wouldn't answer her straightforward question. Okay, obviously he must have, because he had already admitted that he had been expecting her visit and had waited for her to come. Although she supposed that an argument could still be made (and if anyone was to make it, House would be the one for the job) that expecting her to come didn't necessarily guarantee he'd been missing her. But why couldn't he just give her a simple yes or no? She sighed, deciding to answer his question anyway. "Wilson's an idiot," she told him seriously. "He is of the opinion that you don't want us here. He thinks you incredibly vain, which I will tell you now I am wholeheartedly in agreement with, and he also worries our presence might agitate you because this is the last place you'd want us to witness you in, which is probably true to an extent, but as I don't care about that anyway, matters little. Every time I have pressed him on the subject he has repeated that we cannot come unless you ask us to. At five o'clock this morning I decided, 'screw Wilson's opinions, I'm going.'"

"Does Wilson know you are here?" he asked then, intrigued, and Cuddy was sure a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips, though he was stoically waging the war to keep it hidden.

"No," she answered confidentially, leaning towards him as she moved to rest her left elbow on her knee so that she could support her chin with the palm of her left hand. "I didn't need to hear him lecture me on this one more time. My mind was made up."

"Why? Why come see me?" House asked, studying her intently.

"Why not?" she replied calmly, refusing to be the only vulnerable one. If he wanted an answer to a particular question, he was going to have to ask it. She was not going to answer questions he couldn't get up the courage to ask.

House sighed agitatedly and allowed silence to fall between them for a moment. "Why come see me when you told me before I came here that we don't have a personal relationship and never could?" He finally inquired, looking away. As much as he hated putting forth the question, he needed to know the answer. With nothing but time on his hands and nothing else to do, not knowing would plague him every minute of every hour remaining to him inside these four walls.

"Oh, House," she whispered tenderly then, "I fired you too, but you don't seem to have taken that seriously. Why do you choose to believe that I meant what I said about our relationship?"

"You threaten to fire me all the time. You never mean it," he explained dismissively, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Are you going to tell me about what happened that night?" she asked then, watching him. If she was going to expose her deepest thoughts and feelings for his scrutiny, he better intend to reciprocate. "Wilson said you were hallucinating and then had some kind of delusion. He didn't expand on that but I thought maybe it involved me. You said that I helped you."

House studied the floor tiles, unable to meet her eyes. "When you walked out the door that night leaving me in your office, my brain somehow concocted this delusion that I stopped you in the doorway, admitting that I was experiencing hallucinations from the Vicodin. You suggested we admit me for detox through the ER under a pseudonym and I told you it would never work. I would find a way to cheat. I admitted that I needed you to help me and so you called a sitter to stay with Rachel. You came home with me, searched the house for drugs, stayed with me through the night, even tackling me before I could toss back the Vicodin I found on the bathroom floor. We were talking in the front room when I realized I hadn't seen Amber for a while."

"You were hallucinating Amber?" she interrupted, surprised by this detail.

House just nodded, not wanting to talk about that.

Cuddy let it slide. "Then what happened?" she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

"You went to leave," he replied quickly, ready to leave it at that.

Cuddy thought about this. Really, all this explained was how he had thought she'd helped him. It didn't explain where his uncertainty lay in what she had been upset about. "But the day of Chase and Cameron's wedding, after I fired you and you came into my office, you were clearly confused when you realized I was upset about what you had said. What did you think I was upset about?"

"Do we really need to talk about this?" House replied in irritation.

"No," she told him, knowing that he'd have to make the decision to tell her himself, or he would resent her for forcing his hand. He could always opt to not tell her. In truth, that was probably his standard response in moments like these. That or deflect. "Whether you share with me or not is your decision," she continued. "But I can't piece together the rest of that day without you telling me. I can't force you to confide in me, House. You've got to decide on your own whether you want to trust me or not."

Just then the door swung open and another patient stepped in, a shorter man with a gut, sporting a comb-over. "House, you are late! It's time to go to lunch!" The man's eyes landed on Cuddy and he halted in the doorway, looking at her with interest.

"Eat without me. I'm not coming. Tell the warden I have a visitor," House told him sarcastically, waving him off. "I'll see you at dinner."

"I could leave if you want," Cuddy offered, giving House a way out of the conversation. "I don't want you to starve."

He looked at her, contemplating her a moment. "No," he finally said.

The man in the doorway looked back and forth between the two of them, undecided as to what to do.

"Go," House commanded the other man.

The patient looked at Cuddy and then back at House, smiling broadly in a dopy sort of way. "She's hot," he finally told House, as if Cuddy wasn't there or couldn't hear him.

"LEAVE!" House yelled, clearly put-out. This time the man obeyed.

Cuddy laughed, half in appreciation for the oddly-timed compliment and half at how House had glowered at the other patient and his commentary. "Um…I am not sure I want to know this but was that Wilson's replacement?"

"Not of my choosing," he asserted, only to pause and think about it a little more. "I guess he is. In a manner of speaking. He doesn't buy my food. But I do steal his fries."

"I look forward to telling Wilson of how he's been replaced when I tell him what an idiot he was for thinking we should stay away," Cuddy announced mischievously. Then she focused her attention back on House, unsure what to say next. "So…I'm turning this over to you. Feel free to change the subject if that's what you want to do."

"We had sex," he announced suddenly, watching her for an adverse reaction.

She sat up straight, dropping her arm from where it had been resting on her knee to support her chin. Then she scooted back on the bed until her spine was up against the wall, not because she needed the space, but because she honestly wanted something to lean into and it would also afford her the opportunity to study House better. The bed creaked at her movement but she ignored it, staring off into space as she took in his proclamation. Since she knew they hadn't had sex, not in years, she figured she could safely assume he had opted to reveal the rest of his delusion to her. It made sense. It even explained his sexual innuendo that day and the announcement he'd made publically at the hospital on the day that followed.

"What are you thinking?" House asked then, a little disconcerted that she'd moved away from him.

"Well, honestly, I would rather not know of your sexual exploits with the other patients here," Cuddy deadpanned. "I was really hoping to talk about your delusion."

House rolled his eyes at her. "Not with that guy. You and I. In my delusion."

She trained her gaze on him, maintaining a neutral, yet thoughtful expression.

"Cuddy, you're killing me here," he groaned, his eyes reflecting his discomfort.

"Was I good?" she asked then, a smile coaxing its way onto her face.

To her surprise, he did not respond by laughing as she had expected he would, but took her question seriously. "You were better than good. You were…" He inflated his cheeks and then exhaled loudly. Realizing then what he had said, he glared at her. "I asked you if we could move in together Cuddy. Doesn't that answer the question?"

"I suppose it does," she admitted, a self-satisfied expression on her face.

"You do realize this didn't actually happen, don't you?" he reminded her then, vaguely entertained by her reaction.

"Yes. But it doesn't change the fact that you knew to expect nothing less than amazing from me," she teased.

House rolled his eyes. "Who is the vain one again?" he quipped, but his lips curved up into a smile regardless.

Then Cuddy sobered and House waited, each second of silence weighing upon him.

"What now?" he finally exclaimed in frustration, the smile falling from his face.

"I was just…wondering if you were any good," she said, her expression indicating that she had her doubts even if her eyes were twinkling at him.

"Cuddy, I know it's been a long time and as you get older, your memory is starting to fade, but I think you remember the answer to that question," House smugly responded.

She grimaced. "Yeah, that was awful. You were a big disappointment. I never want to do THAT again!"

He chuckled wryly. "Whatever. You know I was the best you ever had."

She smiled then because they both sounded like teenagers, but she did not respond. Finally she collected her thoughts and spoke. "So when I came into your office that morning and told you that from that moment forward, our relationship would be strictly professional, you thought I…"

"I thought you either regretted sleeping with me or you were conflicted about what it meant. Hence, I did everything in my power to piss you off in an attempt to win you over," House explained.

"You do realize that twisted logic would only make sense to you, right?" she asked quizzically.

"Nope. It worked for Wilson too," House informed her. "He told me all my attempts – skipping clinic, sending a male stripper, delivering poop to your office via a patient, etc. – they all fell into the normal range of things I do to drive you crazy. He said I had to go out there and terrorize you. So I did. I announced to everyone that we'd had sex. As I remember, that didn't quite work out for me so well. But that I blame entirely on Wilson. It was a dumb idea."

Cuddy smiled in amusement. "You're off the hook then. I will give Wilson your extra clinic hours for that stunt."

"Seriously?" he replied in shock.

"Why not? I'm feeling generous," she shrugged.

"Thank you. It's the least you could do," House then acknowledged stoically.

Cuddy reached over and grabbed his pillow, whipping it at him. It smacked him right in the face.

"Ow!" He whined, rubbing his jaw. "Cuddy! The pillows in this dump are like thin bricks. That was totally uncalled for!"

"Poor baby!" she mocked, pushing herself up and off the bed to approach him, bending down into his space to stroke his jaw.

Their eyes met; faces now inches apart. House glanced down at her mouth as she continued to stroke her thumb along his scruff and she couldn't help but forget to breathe for a moment, waiting for him to make a move.

The moment ended too soon. "About what you saw…" House started, uncomfortable to even bring it up.

He had the worst timing. He could have taken advantage of that moment. He should have taken advantage of it, Cuddy told herself. She released his jaw and shook her head to say she didn't need to hear an explanation. "You were right. You can kiss whoever you want to."

"I hardly think she's going to want to kiss me now, after I practically screamed out to everyone that she was nothing more than a distraction to me," he informed her sarcastically.

"Well then that works out good for me, doesn't it?" she replied, her voice smug.

"I suppose it does," he agreed contentedly.

"I imagine I've asked for enough details for today but how did detox go?" Cuddy quizzed in concern.

"Not as well as it went with you," he deflected, not wanting to go into detail.

She laughed throatily and teased, "Yes, I can imagine that being the case."

"What else do you want to know?" he asked then.

"Um…how's your pain level?" she settled on inquiring, not as fearful of his response as she had expected to be, simply because in the time she'd been with him, he hadn't alluded to being in excruciating pain.

This embarrassed him, simply because he had always argued forcibly that he needed the Vicodin to get by. "It's manageable," he admitted reluctantly. "Leg still hurts, some days worse than others. Right now I can hardly feel it. It's just a dull ache. When I've gone, physical therapy has also helped. And I'm still on pain meds, just not anything addictive in nature."

She released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "That's great, House." She wanted to make a bigger deal of it, but contained herself so as not to annoy him with her happiness.

Suddenly aware of how long she'd been here and the necessity of leaving in time to get home so that the babysitter could accomplish today what she needed to, Cuddy drew close to him and regretfully said, "I should get going. I'll let Wilson know you might not be quite so opposed to seeing him."

When House nodded, seemingly resigned to being abandoned, she placed a hand on either side of him on the chair he was sitting in, leaned down, and ghosted her lips over his just enough to taunt him with a promise for the future and hopefully, leave him longing for more. She knew how House avoided huggers and so rather than hug him and risk feeling him stiffen in discomfort, Cuddy allowed herself this small pleasure. Then she smiled saucily and turned, picking up her purse before sashaying out of his room, adding an extra oomph to how her hips sway.

House watched her go, staring at the door long after it closed behind her. Slowly the corners of his mouth turned up. His future was looking brighter already.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: House, M.D. is 100% David Shore's possession.

(You guys are great. :) Thanks for the reviews and for enjoying this fic! I hope you like this teaser of a chapter!)

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Cuddy had visited him as often as she could in the weeks following that first visit. Wilson had made a point to go every weekend AFTER she had made it clear that House was expecting him to visit. She had walked brashly into his office the morning after, waited for Wilson to look up at her, and then proclaimed, "Wilson, you are the biggest idiot! House will be expecting you to go see him this next weekend and if I hear from him that you don't, I'm going to give you double clinic hours." Then she had turned and marched back in the direction of the elevator, hearing Wilson knock things over in his haste to come after her. He caught up to Cuddy by the elevator. "You went to see him?" he asked, obviously stunned that she had and that House apparently hadn't minded after all. She looked at him sternly and then asked, "Did you not just hear me tell you you're an idiot?" Abashed, he nodded then as the elevator doors opened and she stepped within. "I'll go this Saturday," he assured her as the elevator doors closed, parting them. While Wilson had later shown curiosity about how the visit had gone she had refused to give him any details. He deserved to be punished, she had told herself smugly. And too, she wanted to cherish what had happened between her and House, keeping it to herself as long as possible.

It was Thursday and Cuddy was ecstatic because she was right now striding through Mayfield and knew today was the last time she would see House within these walls. Dr. Nolan had called earlier in the week with the news and she had been so happy that she had blocked off this afternoon to be able to come and see him once again and tell him she'd be waiting right outside those doors on the morrow to welcome him to his liberation. She picked up her pace as she strode down the final hallway to his room, anxious to see him while butterflies mockingly swirled in her belly, making her conscious of how very much each moment with him meant to her.

Cuddy stopped at his door and knocked, waiting for permission to enter before turning the knob and stepping in.

House looked up from where he lay on his bed, reading a medical journal she had brought him the weekend before. His face broke out in a wide grin and he set the journal down on his bed but made no effort to get out, sprawled there lazily, eying her. He put his hands behind his head so he could check her out at an angle. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my animal magnetism, drawing you across the distance."

She rolled her eyes, shutting the door behind her before sashaying her way over to him and sinking down in the space he vacated as he slid closer to the wall to make room for her. "Yes, it was definitely your 'animal magnetism' that drew me here," she sarcastically replied, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" he pouted childishly.

Cuddy sighed as if it was the worst obligation she'd ever run across in all her life, but twisted a bit, bracing herself on the bed on either side of him to dip her head and meet his lips, only slightly touching his before hastily pulling away in order to keep up her act of revulsion. House lifted his head to follow after her lips but she had already moved from the bed.

"You are SO playing hard to get right now," he complained, forcing himself up into a sitting position and swinging his legs to the side.

"I AM hard to get, House," she coyly replied, her eyes teasing him. "How many years has it taken you? Twenty-something? Either I'm hard to get or you are just terrible at the getting."

"Aw, but then you are admitting I got ya," he quipped. "That makes you mine now."

"Maybe," she volleyed noncommittally. "I'll reserve judgment on that one."

House smiled and then his eyes ran over her, checking her out. Cuddy pursed her lips and waited, trying to mask her reaction to the heat in his eyes. "You look hot," he finally murmured before meeting her gaze.

She laughed but thanked him for the compliment before changing the subject. "So, what time should I come get you tomorrow?" She looked earnestly at him, excited that it was time.

"No need for you to come," he replied, shaking his head. "I already called Wilson. He'll come and get me."

Cuddy stared at him, crestfallen. "Wilson?"

"Yeah, he offered before," House informed her, shrugging as if it didn't really matter.

She turned away then, unsure as to why he would want Wilson over her. "You don't want me to come then?" she finally asked softly.

It suddenly dawned on House that she was feeling hurt by his choice and he paused a moment, searching for an answer that wouldn't end in certain death and destruction. He was really trying to control his mouth these days. He desperately wanted this thing with Cuddy to last.

"Cuddy," he murmured, pushing up from the bed to walk over and lay a hand on her arm, finally sighing before explaining, "We both know I'm coming over to your place as soon as I'm out. I just…I want to be able to come to your door as if I haven't just left the nuthouse. I want to be able to drop my stuff off at home, shower away the smell of this place, and then come over as if I'm just a normal person."

Cuddy turned then, giving him a tremulous smile before pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. At present she could still count on her hands the number of kisses they'd shared since her first visit, none of them being anything beyond casual, though it seemed they had an unspoken agreement that they were now in a relationship. Afterwards Cuddy always went home wondering why they were being so chaste. She finally concluded it was because both of them were so out of their element at Mayfield. "Okay," she agreed before quipping, "But you'll never be normal. You never were, House."

"Normal's overrated," he grumbled at her then, as he rolled his eyes in fake exasperation. Truth be known though, he was pleased that she didn't seem to want, nor did she at all expect him to be "normal."

"What do you want to do when you come over?" she asked in curiosity, wondering if she should cook dinner and expect a quiet night at home or if she needed to call a sitter so that they could go out.

He gave her a smoldering look from where he stood against the wall, his eyebrows going up and down suggestively. Honestly, it made her weak in the knees. "I meant, do you want to stay in or go out?" she huffed when she'd finally calmed her accelerated pulse to a more even rhythm.

"Stay in," he immediately replied.

She shot him a stern gaze. "I'm not making any promises that we are going to…"

House interrupted before she could finish. "Cuddy! Relax. I just want to hang out. You can cook or we can order take out. Whatever you want. I just want to sit in front of the TV and watch a movie with you or something. I want to do what normal people do. I don't really want to be around a whole bunch of people. Just you. And Rachel too," he finished resignedly after a brief pause, pretending like the fact that her daughter would now become a part of his life grated a bit.

Cuddy wrapped her arms around him then, hugging him fiercely until he squirmed uncomfortably and sighed dramatically.

She released him and walked over to the bed to sit back down, silence descending between them. House watched her as she seemed to be far away, lost in thought. "What?" he finally asked, her moments of quiet always disturbing him somehow. If he admitted it to himself, he was always waiting for the sky to fall, expecting her to come to her senses at any moment and realize she was choosing to enter into a relationship of sorts with a man in a psych hospital.

She glanced up at him then, her eyes fearful. "What if it isn't like it was in your delusion?" she asked then, her voice soft. "What if we…and it isn't that great?"

Genuinely relieved by her doubts, he smiled cheekily before mocking her thoughts. "Cuddy, you can't be serious!"

"What if it isn't?" she repeated, shrugging her shoulders as she looked away.

"You think that I might suck?" he asked in genuine surprise, a bit taken aback that she really was serious.

"It's not you I'm worried about," she muttered dryly, still not meeting his eyes.

House shook his head in bewilderment. He knew what she was thinking, but it made absolutely no sense to him. Before he could think of how to reply, she added, "It's just been a long time for me."

He laughed then and her head swung up so that her eyes could connect with his. He opted to treat her concern like it was irrational. Joking, he quipped, "Sweet! That means you'll be…"

"House!" she yelled, interrupting him so that he wouldn't finish that statement. She knew he was trying to deflect but she was being serious here. Her eyes flashed at him before she angrily stated, "You have this whole thing built up in your head. I know you can't help that it's there. You didn't choose to have a delusion where we had sex. But, all the same…I'm just…concerned that it might not happen like you pictured and might not leave you feeling like…you felt when you woke up that morning. We've hardly even kissed. And…And you aren't taking me seriously!" She got to her feet, grabbing her purse and heading to the door with every intention of walking out right then.

House stepped away from the wall and took three steps towards her, grabbing her arm before she could twist the doorknob. He turned her back to face him, not as gently as he would have liked to, but then she was furious and he didn't really have much choice but to be a little rough. Before she could speak, his mouth was upon hers, kissing her with wild abandon. She resisted for a few seconds but then carelessly dropped her purse, bringing her arms up to wrap around his upper back and force him closer as she returned the kiss just as passionately. He took a few steps forward, taking her with him and pressing her into the door. It was a kiss that made their kiss after she lost Joy look like a brief peck on the cheek. It was a kiss that outshined every kiss she'd ever received before. It made her think she'd never been kissed at all the way someone ought to be kissed. He was nipping at her lips, demanding entry and so she opened her mouth to him, allowing him in and waging war with his tongue, seeking dominance. Somehow she knew that would be the way between them.

Cuddy heard a moan and initially thought it was coming from her but then realized it was coming from House. The fact that he was as desperate for this kiss as she was, and obviously enjoying it equally as much, caused her eyes to pop open so that she could experience that with all of her other senses as well. House was watching her as they kissed; his blue eyes fiery with desire. Heat pooled in her belly then and she aligned her body with his, her eyes fluttering closed again as she stopped thinking and just allowed herself to feel. House reached down and pulled her legs up and around him, one after the other, her skirt sliding up around her hips while he used his other hand to brace them both against the door. When she was snug against him he returned his hand to the door and pressed his pelvis into her. Cuddy broke the kiss with a long drawn out moan, her neck arching as her head fell back against the door, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as she sucked in a ragged breath and re-inflated her oxygen-deprived lungs. House took advantage of the opportunity and his lips found her neck, exploring it, tasting it, and biting it in turn. He inhaled the scent of her skin as he made his way along the right side of her jaw, sucking on the skin beneath her ear, knowing he was making a mark but not caring enough to stop himself. Cuddy's fingers had entwined themselves in his hair and she moaned, encouraging him to continue his ministrations. He bucked into her again, enjoying how she gasped and then clutched tighter to him with her thighs. "Cuddy," he breathed into her curls, waiting for her to look down and bring her face back to his before kissing her deeply again. When he knew they both were desperately in need of oxygen, he broke the kiss and reluctantly allowed her legs to return to the ground. They stood there in an embrace, cheek to cheek, both panting heavily.

When he finally thought he was capable of speech, he drew back enough to look into her eyes, appreciating the desire he saw reflected there and knew she would likewise see in his. "Still have your doubts?" he asked, his lips curving up in a smile.

She shook her head, incapable of replying with words just yet.

"That's too bad," he teased. "I was looking forward to continuing what we started by breaking this room in."

She laughed a throaty laugh, in that moment the sexiest sound House had ever heard. "Yeah right," she finally quipped. "Like you really want to have sex when someone could come in at any moment and probably would because your walls are only five inches thick."

"Actually, I wouldn't. But only because the bed is so thin that springs dig into you when you lie down for any amount of time. And it creaks something awful if you toss and turn too much. Plus," he added cockily, burying a hand in her hair and gently tugging her head back to expose her throat before biting playfully at her pulse point, "I have a feeling you'll be screaming before I'm done with you. That would attract even more attention than the bed and I figure you'll shoot down any hopes I have for a repeat performance if we get caught."

She moaned before she could stop herself and then sighed when he abandoned her neck and straightened to meet her gaze with an expression of obvious pride in his achievements. "You're going to have to wear something with a high neck for a few days," he declared then, his fingers caressing the spot on her neck.

"I don't care," she replied honestly, before giving him a gentle peck on the lips. "But if we are stopping now, I am going to go. Before you get me worked up any more than I already am."

House quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're the one who's worked up? I'm going to have to take a cold shower now."

She bit her lower lip and pushed him away from her, opening the door before she swept her eyes up and down his body. She released her lip then before tracing her tongue over her upper lip. "Too bad there aren't co-ed showers here."

House growled at her. "You don't play nice!"

She smiled then and winked saucily at him. "Maybe if you're a good boy I'll play nice tomorrow night."

"Is that a promise?" he asked hopefully.

She laughed but did not answer, picking her purse up from where it had fallen on the floor, her back braced on the open door. Then she turned to him and leaned in until her mouth was next to his ear, "Stand here and watch me walk away," she urged him needlessly, confident that she didn't even have to ask to know he'd do so. She allowed her lips to graze along the stubble of his cheek as she drew back, pausing just briefly enough to assess what swirled in the depths of his blue eyes and listen to his ragged breathing, before turning and sashaying off, hips moving with an additional sway, for his eyes only.


End file.
